


like endless rain into a paper cup

by stitchingatthecircuitboard



Series: across the universe [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:50:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchingatthecircuitboard/pseuds/stitchingatthecircuitboard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe, the Batman arrives to the Joker’s lair as Gordon crawls out, a shrieking laugh and the shot of a gun, and another, and another and another and another echoing from deep within the ride.</p>
<p>In this universe, Jason Todd survives.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[warnings: brief, non-graphic mentions of violence; references to pre-fic, off-screen murder]</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	like endless rain into a paper cup

**Author's Note:**

> blame the diabolical tea for this one:
> 
> So since I got so much happiness from the last one, the universe ought to extract in equal- so perhaps the universe where Jason went after Joker to save Gordon? Bonus tears and wails if it's the one where he survives but something irreparable happens to him. (Wow. I'm kind of mean.)

In every universe, Babs lies in the hospital, small and fragile and shattered in her spine. In this universe, Jason leaves her there. “Gonna get the nurse,” he says, smiling thinly. He thinks he might never smile again.

Babs frowns at him, suspicious but trusting, and leans back against the pillows, almost disappearing into them. “Alright,” she murmurs, or he thinks she does. He’s already gone.

 

In this universe, the Batman arrives to the Joker’s lair as Gordon crawls out, a shrieking laugh and the shot of a gun, and another, and another and another and another echoing from deep within the ride.

In this universe, Jason Todd survives.

 

“You goddamn idiot,” Babs says furiously. Jason blinks, rubs his eyes, or tries to. His hands are strapped down to the hospital bed.

“What —” he says, groggy, and Babs laughs with a semi-hysterical lilt.

“‘What,’ right,” she says. “God. You fucking — Jason, you — you killed the Joker.”

He’s never heard her swear so much. “I — I did,” he says slowly. 

“Fucking hell.” Babs leans back in the chair he hadn’t noticed. “Jason. They want you for murder one.”

Jason blinks again. 

“What?” he says stupidly.  
“They’re coming after you for murder in the first degree,” Babs says with a vicious undertone he realizes isn’t solely directed at him, “because you killed the Joker.”

“But —” he says blankly, _— but i saved your father’s life; he shot out your spine, babs, you’ll never walk again; he’s killed countless hundreds, thousands even, and they want to convict me?!_

“Yeah,” Babs says, hollowly. “Apparently Bruce Wayne feels very strongly about the treatment of the criminally insane. Apparently, he’s got a fuckton of influence in the D.A.’s office.”

“Bruce Wayne?”

He feels like he’s in the eighth grade all over again, trying desperately to keep up with her notes and explanations, unable to do more than grasp an isolated phrase as she zips through his textbook barely pausing for breath.

Babs leans over, mouth twisted miserably, furiously. She holds his hand, the angle awkward. 

“I’m working on it,” she says. “We’re going to get you the best lawyer in the city. No jury’s going to fucking convict you for that monster’s death.”

Jason wants to believe her, desperately, but the reality of the situation is that the GCPD and the library don’t pay so well, and Babs has some debt still left over, even after every scholarship Gotham University could give her. Bruce Wayne, on the other hand, is richer than most royalty, and if he’s invested enough to want Jason to pay for murdering the Joker —

Well, Jason has a feeling the best lawyer in the city is going to be otherwise occupied.

“Hey,” Babs says fiercely, “look at me, Jay.”

He does, and can’t quite wipe his hopelessness from his face.

“I’m going to fix this,” Babs says, with the same ferocity she’d used to promise Jason she’d get him up to speed, that things were going to be okay when he came out, that her early graduation on top of the handful of years separating them wouldn’t ruin their friendship.

Jason swallows.

“I believe you,” he whispers, because he needs to and she needs him to, and Babs nods curtly, squeezes his hand, and wheels her way slowly, carefully from the room.

 

The best lawyer in the city won’t come within five thousand miles of Jason’s case.

“Xe’s doing charity work in Ghana,” Babs says furiously, “on behalf of the fucking Wayne Foundation.”

“Oh,” Jason says weakly, surprised more by how utterly unavailable xe is than that xe’s unavailable at all.

“We still have options,” Babs says, and shoots the guards at the door a glare. “You focus on getting better, okay?”

 

Captain Gordon comes in about a half hour after she leaves. He hunches his shoulders more than Jason is used to seeing, and exhaustion’s left bruises under his eyes.

“Jason,” he says, and sits heavily in the visitor’s chair.

“Captain Gordon,” Jason answers, voice as steady as he can make it. Gordon’s never exactly approved of Jason, and the way things are now — it’s hard to believe that that’s changed, at all.

“I want to thank you,” Gordon says abruptly, and Jason starts in shock. Gordon clears his throat. “You saved my life,” he says, “and — and you did the right thing, as far as I’m concerned.” He looks up, holds Jason’s eyes through his glasses. “I’ll say the same to every judge, jury, and billionaire I can.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jason whispers, and Gordon stands unsteadily, but a little straighter. He rests a hand comfortingly on Jason’s shoulder.

“You did the right thing, son,” he says gruffly, “and I’m proud of you for it.”

 

“I won’t be able to pass the bar in time,” Babs tells him, days later, staring grimly at the court date. “And I’ve seen the track record of the lawyer the state’s appointed you. It’s a wonder he passed the bar, frankly.”

“Babs,” Jason says quietly. 

She looks at him, eyes bright, mouth thin and hard.

“I’d do it again,” he says. “It’d still be worth it.”

“I hate it when you say things like that,” she says, turning her head away to wipe angrily at her eyes. 

They sit quietly for a few minutes. When Babs finally turns back to him, her eyes are dry, and something cold has settled in the set of her jaw.

“Jason,” she says, “how do you feel about Faustian deals?”

“I feel that they’re never worth it,” he says immediately. “The Devil always wins, Babs.”

“Yeah, well,” she mutters, “the Devil fucking owes me one.”

“Babs,” Jason says, wanting to reach for her and bound by the cuffs at his wrists, “don’t fucking do it.”

One of the guards pokes his head into the room. “Ms. Gordon,” he says, “visiting hours are over. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Alright,” Babs says, “I’m going.” She turns to Jason. “I’ll be back soon,” she says, and wheels out before he can argue against it.

 

Jason waits, and falls into a fitful sleep a few hours in. When he wakes, it’s to a flashlight shining in his face, the squeak of Babs’ wheelchair at the foot of his bed.

“This is the one who killed the Joker?” says a voice behind the light, skeptically.

“Yes,” Babs says. “Jason Todd.”

“Can you,” Jason says, squinting, “maybe move the light, or something —”

“Jason, please shut up,” Babs says, but the woman holding the light laughs and sets the flashlight on the table, where it casts enough illumination for him to make out long, dark hair, an amused smile, two crumpled figures against the far wall. His guards.

“Are they —”

“Just out cold,” Babs says. “Jason, this is Talia al Ghul.”

“Barbara tells me you’ve led an interesting life,” Talia says, “and that you can fight. That you have strong feelings about what’s right and what’s wrong, despite straying to the wrong side of the law many times.” Her eyes linger on the cuffs on his wrists.

Jason swallows. “I don’t believe the law is always right,” he says warily, glancing at Babs. She nods at him, a tight, economical movement.

“Now, for instance,” Talia prompts. “You killed a mass murderer, and they want to imprison you for life. Tell me, would you do such a thing again, if you believed doing so were right?”

“Yes,” Jason says unhesitatingly, “of course.”

Talia smiles.

“Jason Todd,” she says, the first time she’s said his name. “How would you like to not be incarcerated?”

 

Babs sits next to him in Talia’s limousine, tense and silent and still. 

“Hey,” he whispers, nudging her gently.

She looks at her hands, folded neatly over the limp lines of her thighs. “Don’t —” she says, and glances at the opposite seat, where Talia is reading something on a tablet. “Don’t trust her.”

“A rather awkward request,” Talia notes, not looking up. Babs flushes.

“Don’t trust anyone else, either,” she says. “And don’t you dare be a stranger, Jason, I’ll hunt you down if I don’t hear from you.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll email.”

“You’d better let him,” Babs says to Talia, who rolls her eyes. 

“He’ll be fine, if he’s half what you’ve told me,” she says. “Don’t fret, Barbara. I’ll let him phone home.”

Babs exhales sharply. The limousine stops.

The driver hands Talia out. “Come along, Jason,” she calls over her shoulder, “say goodbye.”

“Babs,” Jason says, and stops; what do you say to the best friend you might never see again?

“Call me if you need anything,” she says fiercely. “I can negotiate with Talia. When she’s through training you, you’ll be able to as well — but until then.” She swallows. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for saving me.”

“I didn’t.” Babs squeezes his hands. “I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

“No, I mean — you always have, for years.”

Babs smiles. “Well,” she says, “I’ve always liked being a hero.”

“Jason,” Talia calls impatiently.

“Love you, Babs,” he whispers.

“Love you, Jay,” she whispers back, and he ducks out of the limousine and follows Talia al Ghul onto the jet.

 

In this universe, Jason returns to Gotham, slips silently into Babs’ apartment.

Babs looks up, unsurprised, hair lit green in the monitors.

“I hear they’re calling you ‘Musaafer,’ now,” she says. "Put the kettle on, will you?"


End file.
